


drop a heart, break a name

by nea_writes



Series: diners, drive-ins, dives and dating [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Crack, Howard Link has got it going on, M/M, McDonald's, apparently it was bk not mcd but listen, holy shit thats a tag already??? why, its already bad enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 02:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: Allen brushed his bangs from his eyes to frame his cheek, hands dropping under the table as he regarded Neah coolly. “You texted me to come see you, and I can guess why now.”





	drop a heart, break a name

**Author's Note:**

> Following the mana/link disaster my friends made a joke ‘I can’t believe Link seduced both the campbells with fast food’ and so of course I had to write a sinpie version of the whole mess.
> 
> Taco bell fic, meet McDonald’s fic.

Link brushed off stray crumbs with a napkin and then stuffed the napkin itself off to the side. The booth he sat in was by a window, and the pre-dawn light wasn’t enough to obscure his own reflection. Still, the phone lines and wires were black against the soft pink sky, and he could appreciate that for a moment, ignoring the chilled blast of air of an air conditioner cranked too high and the queasy scent of old oil.

“Stop frowning so much, you’re doing that pretty face a disservice.”

Link turned aside just enough to side-eye Neah, brow cocked. Before, such flattery would’ve left him stuttering and pink-cheeked, but all it did now was exasperate him. Neah wasn’t even looking at him, eyes closed as he savored the bite of some greasy breakfast sandwich that the very sight of alone turned Link’s stomach.

“I wouldn’t be frowning,” Link said, eyes drifting back and catching the curling steam of a cup of coffee. He watched it rise and twist on itself before finally fading. “If I wasn’t in a godforsaken McDonald’s at six in the morning.”

Neah laughed quietly, taking the moment to sip his coffee. Against all odds and stereotypes, Neah was almost disgustingly a morning person. He’d wake up at four, five, six, bright-eyed and eager. It was Link’s misfortune that his nephew was something similar - the type who never slept at all.

As if on cue with Link’s thoughts, Allen walked in, a tiny suction of air where the cold was sucked into the humid warmth outside. He glanced their way, something in his expression immediately souring, but turned towards the service counter.

Despite he and Neah being the only other customers, Link couldn’t quite make out Allen’s conversation with the employee who walked out to greet him. Like Link figured, it was another sleepless night, or something similar - his face was a bit too pale, shadows under his eyes a bit too dark. Unlike his uncle, Allen didn’t always dress to impress. His clothes draped off him, always long-sleeved, layered, favoring darker colors and muted themes.

In a flutter of loose fabric and strands of hair that didn’t quite make his short ponytail, Allen made his way to their booth, hesitating. Link was on one side and Neah the other, and, Link thought bitterly, he probably didn’t want to sit by either of them.

“Link, come sit with me,” Neah said, and as Link slid from his side it occurred to him that Neah hadn’t even glanced at Allen yet. When he brushed past Allen it was like the summer warmth radiated off of him, and he carried on his back the long hours, stress and anger. Link settled beside Neah, and didn’t pull away when Neah held his hand on his lap.

Allen brushed his bangs from his eyes to frame his cheek, hands dropping under the table as he regarded Neah coolly. “You texted me to come see you, and I can guess why now.” He shot a pointed glance at where Link and Neah’s hands under the table were.

Link’s breath caught in his chest as he floundered with a response, glancing to Neah for guidance. Instead he finished the last bite of his meal and grasped a napkin to wipe his hands clean. That done, he rearranged all his wrappers - carefully folded after removal, so that neat if wrinkly squares of them sat on top of each other - to the side before finally regarding Allen.

“Good morning to you, too, Allen,” Neah said instead, and from there Link could feel the balance shift, tilting towards Neah. The employee came by, then, with Allen’s order, and he gave her a white-toothed smile, thanking her graciously. She gave a polite nod back, and left. “Yes, I wanted to talk to you and you’re such a busy boy I figured early morning would work best.”

Allen laughed humorlessly, unwrapping his meal and then just staring at it. It was the first time Link had seen him with a total lack of interest in food. Instead, he made for his coffee, preparing it. “Is that so?” Allen said, smiling curiously, a quirk in the corner of his lips and his eyelashes down-swept so that he looked like a framed painting, a study of color and composition.

Link squeezed Neah’s hand, and when he received an answering twist of their fingers, interlacing, he felt his anxiety bleed and leave him in a quiet exhale.

“So talk to me.”


End file.
